Uncharted: Blood of the Forgotten
by Knotwork Bear
Summary: There is a dark past hidden beneath a small church on a remote british island, rumors of hidden treasures and disappearing missionarys in the islands past lead Charlie Cutter to convince Nate to venture into a long forgotten cave system in the hope of finding a fortune, but is everything as it seems? Horror Suggestive Themes German Dark Electro


"Must of been the holy wine again..." muttered an old man as he rose from his bed, he was covered in sweat and was wiping at his forehead with a small square of cloth, he swung his feet around and placed them on the floor, he reeled for a moment. The ground was ice cold, it always had been since the church was built there. Despite all the heating devices he installed it never got warm, every night it would be like treading on a sheet of snow. With a grumble he put on a pair of slippers and stood up with a crack, his back wasn't what it used to be, and he sure was getting on in his years. He Shuffled over to the thermostat and checked the temperature, as usual it was on high, the rest of his body was hot yet the ground was unchanged. He even got plumbers in to look for any piping under the wooden floor, but nothing seemed to help. He picked up a small and rather old phone from a dresser and pressed for his speed dial.

"Pick up... come on..."

There was a click and a soft groan coming from the phone, the old man smiled slightly before it dipped into his usual frown.

"I'm sorry to call you at this hour, brother bu-"

"If its about the floor, I don't want to know..."

The other voice was notably younger sounding, yet from the croak in his voice is was hard to tell how much younger.

"Its not that, brother... I think the holy wine is... off"

There was a silence on the phone before he got a response.

"How do you mean 'off' exactly?"

"Well, I held mass this morning and like everyone else, I had a sip of the holy wine"

The other voice sighed, it was understandable for him to be frustrated, specially being rung up at four in the morning. "Please, just get to the point..."

"I've been having the most terrible nightmares of late, and only after drinking some of the wine... I haven't heard anything from anyone else but its the only thing I can think of..."

"What about doing an Exorcism on the new building?"

the old man considered it for a moment, and the other voice knew as much.

"Look, take some sleeping pills or something and get back to bed, we will talk about this in the morning"

"But but..."

"Pray or something if it makes you feel safer..."

There was a click and the call ended, the old man lowered the phone and placed it on the side. He ran a hand though his thin hair, all that could be said for it was a handful of long grey wisps forming a poor excuse of a comb over He shuffled over to a window and had a peek thought the curtain, it was a clear night, and probably not even that cold outside. So why was the floor always like ice?

The old man made his way into another room, a kitchen and went to make himself a drink to help him sleep, but his attention was suddenly distracted by a thumping noise and the distant mutter of voices behind another door. A door that led into the main hall of the church.

"Why now... of all times..." he grumbled to himself, but with a groan he paced over to the door and pulled it open. He couldn't see anyone immediately, but there was a number of pillars and pews blocking his view. He let out a small cough to clear his voice and then spoke up "Do you require forgiveness for your actions? Or will the penance of leaving what you came for be enough?"

"Shit! Its the priest!" came a voice, then there was a sudden burst of footsteps. Two hooded figures ran past and crashed thought a door.

"Kids today..."

The old man made his way to the door and checked it for any damage, the lock had been picked, that much was clear by the key sitting on the floor, whoever it was would have had to of pushed it out in order to activate the mechanisms. After locking the door, he picked up a small wooden beam and used it to secure the door shut, even thought it wasn't that big, it was enough to exert the old man and leave him resting against a wall to recover himself. His gazed looked over to his alter, or more to where his alter should have been. It had been shoved to the side and the carpet rolled up to reveal a trapdoor. Thankfully the padlock was firmly in place and nothing could have been taken.

He carefully rolled the carpet back and moved the wooden alter back into place, he thought to himself what they would of wanted with some candles and old cushions, for it was all he could think was inside there. Perhaps someone had given out word that there was a safe or a collection of silver inside. Either way the door was secured and everything was relatively safe and sound.

Taking a moment to absorb the view, the old priest rested on the steps that he had just climbed to get to the alter. The church was black except for the orange light from the street outside shining odd shapes all around the interior, what would one of been stained glass representing a saint of some form was now a wash of random shapes and figures, the previous images washed away by the single shade of light that was passing thought it.

"Well, that's the easy part of the night done" he uttered to the crucifix on his alter, all he had to do now was try and sleep. But the idea terrified him. His dreams used to be calm and peaceful, now they were flooded with dark horrifying things, things he struggled to recall.

There had to be more to it, he knew it. But he was too old to work on the idea himself. He reclined back on the carpet and stared at the ceiling, perhaps sleeping here would be easier, maybe it was the floor making him feel funny.

All he could do was hope and pray that he would sleep soundly once again.

The following day met him with the usual icy floor that he had come to know and resent, although he should have no place in his heart for resentment, it was difficult for him to put such things aside with his circumstances. But what bothered him the most was the intruders, what had they come for? What could be inside the basement that was so special that they thought the need to break in and burgle it? Hundreds of different ideas came to mind, but he thought best to leave it to someone else.

Over breakfast the old priest made a few phone calls, local plumbers and electric company's to check again if there was anything running under the church, but apart from a small patch of unstable ground that they had to build over, there was nothing of real importance. Its the best they could do without actually digging around the foundations. All the Wiring and piping was installed after the initial construction, so there was little they could help him with anyway. He mulled on the idea for long enough and decided enough was enough, he was going to look in under the trapdoor. See what all the fuss was about, if it was worth stealing then surely it was worth having a look?

He strode thought the church and carefully pushed the alter aside again and rolled up the carpet, silently wishing he had just left it was he found it the night before, save him the effort. The door looked innocent enough, simple wooden effect with a solid looking padlock, he dug into his pocket and pulled out the tiny key that went with it, it was difficult for him to grip though, his fingers all bone by his age and his focus somewhat distracted by the fact he had to get the place ready for morning prayer in an hour. Finally he got to grips with it and slid the tiny key in the lock, it was stiff. He gritted his teeth and gave it a sharp turn and just as the padlock clicked open.

There was a sudden loud banging on the doors of the church, "Father Duncan? I cant in, is everything ok?"

The old man stumbled back and held a hand to his chest, it had nearly given him a heart attack, he did a quick prayer to the figure on his alter and shuffled over to the door, "Coming, Coming..."

He removed the beam and undid the lock, opening it to reveal a smiling face hidden behind thick rimmed glasses and poorly combed hair, it was one of the church committee members, although only one of two including the priest himself, Father Duncan. "Do forgive me, Harry, had a break in last night, had to secure the um.. "

"-Doors?"

"That's the one" he replied with a point.

Harry looked over to the alter and noted the displacement of everything, "My gosh, what did they take?"

"Nothing of importance, I caught them before they took anything"

"You must call the po-"

Father Duncan shook his head "No no, we are a small island, best not to waste resources where we don't need it, besides I offered them forgiveness if they didn't steal anything, so I guess they have it"

Harry frowned and they both walked over to the alter

"I was actually about to look inside there, haven't actually seen the inside since this place was built"

Harry nodded to him "Six months already, time fly's when your having Faith!"

Duncan forced a laugh, Harry always tried humour but was rarely good at it, but he amused him as he felt it his duty.

After finally getting inside the small storage room, everything seemed normal, it was rather vast in size, it went back a fair bit but nothing was stored there, a few stacks of boxes lined the walls at the immediate bottom of the steps, but further than that, it was nothing.

They both ventured further in for the sake of curiosity, Duncan held a small candle in-front of him to light the way while Harry followed behind, peering over his shoulder, suddenly Duncan stopped in his tracks. "Did you feel that?" he asked the younger man.

"Feel what?"

Duncan looked about, he wasn't too sure himself. "Almost as if the ground was-", he bent his knees a did a small jump on the spot, before he could finish his sentence the very ground beneath him, all 10 inches of solid concrete gave way, lumps of floor spiralled down into a vast black abyss that sat below the church, Duncan stared down, down into absolute darkness. He wondered why he wasn't falling, why he wasn't among the rock that was not clanging against the sides of the abyss, then he felt the vice-like grip on his arms. Harry had saved his life, but they both remained silent as they took it all in, Duncan let his grip go on the candle and let it fall, plunging downwards and after what seemed like the longest ten seconds of his life, fizzled out of view, swallowed up by nothingness.

"Thank god your here, Harry..." he whispered after being pulled to safety and laid down on one of the pews. "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know... but... I think I have gotten my answer"


End file.
